


give in and float a while

by nightbloomings



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Frottage, M/M, New Relationship, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 07:07:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3801328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbloomings/pseuds/nightbloomings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen's been out of town for work, leaving Dorian alone in their flat—for an entire <i>week</i>, no less—but the reunion makes it worthwhile. Almost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	give in and float a while

It's been four months, or thereabouts. Most of January, all of February, March, and half of April. Not long, really, but longer than Dorian figured he'd had any right to expect. He isn't exactly the easiest person to get along with, himself. Oh, he plays the role of the charmer well, and he's outgoing enough—almost to a fault, perhaps—but he's aware of his quirks, his eccentricities and oddities. And up against someone like Cullen? Sweet, selfless, sometimes-too-serious Cullen?

Well. He feels lucky that Cullen's managed to tolerate him as long as he has, really.

They had swapped keys to their respective flats after a month, and Dorian all but abandoned his own bed after two. It felt easy, natural, necessary—making the trip between flats, through the city's perpetually congested streets, grew old and bothersome after a matter of weeks.

"Think of all the money we'll each save on heating," Dorian had teased at the time, referring to the way the two them slept wrapped around each other as much as they could. "Even though you refuse to let me turn the heating down…?" Cullen had countered, and well… that was true. But Dorian hated to feel cold, and Cullen was nothing if not accommodating.

So when Cullen has to be out of town for work, it feels strange to Dorian to return to his own flat while he was gone. His bed doesn't smell like Cullen, while Cullen's does. And given that the blighted neat freak does his laundry twice, sometimes thrice, a week, there isn't much in the way of t-shirts that smell of him for Dorian to use as surrogates.

They keep in constant contact over text and Skype, including one especially memorable video call that still sends Dorian's stomach into loops to remember it. But by the time Cullen's due to return home, Dorian misses him so much it's almost a physical kind of ache, deep in his chest. It's a funny, unfamiliar sort of feeling, this deep-seated yearning for a person, but he finds he doesn't mind it. He wants it gone, of course, to have it swept away by having Cullen with him again, but the mere presence of it doesn't disturb him nearly as much as he might've expected it to.

Cullen sends a text when his plane touches down, and another when he's gotten into a cab, and yet another when the cab is a few minutes from his flat—and Dorian's standing ready at the door, waiting for Cullen to try to turn the key over in the lock. He hears Cullen's feet trudge up the front steps and the jingle of the keys as Cullen readies them, and he throws the door open wide, wearing his broadest, warmest smile.

"Hello there," Cullen says, the corner of his mouth hitching up into a loose smile in that way that always sends a current across Dorian's nerves.

Dorian reaches for him, curling his fingers into the side of Cullen's open jacket, and pulls him in over the threshold and into the hall. "I’m glad you're back," he says, kissing Cullen before he can answer.

Cullen leans into the kiss instantly, bringing the hand that's free of his luggage to the back of Dorian's head. He kicks the door shut behind him and when he pulls away, he's smiling.

"Quite the warm welcome."

Dorian returns the smile. "You deserve nothing less, love. How was the flight?" he asks as he reaches for Cullen's suitcase. He sets it next to the hall closet, knowing that it won't sit there long before Cullen gets to it to wash all of its contents.

Cullen sighs a little and shrugs out of his jacket. "Bumpy, and it felt longer than it was."

Dorian takes the jacket and tosses it on top of the suitcase, and doesn't miss the way Cullen's eyes dart to it as it lands. That'll be dealt with in short order too, no doubt.

"How were things here?" Cullen continues, bending to untie his shoes.

"Rather uneventful, really," Dorian answers, watching Cullen with affection. "And cold."

Cullen chuckles and looks up at Dorian as he moves to his other shoe. "I was gone only a week, and the temperature didn't shift at all."

"That isn't the point, the time or the temperature—I still had to sleep alone."

"Mmm." Cullen hums and straightens. He toes his shoes off and slides them against the wall. "So did I."

Dorian reaches for his hand, mingling together their fingers and rubbing the side of Cullen's thumb with his own. "Dreadful, wasn't it?"

Cullen pulls Dorian by the hand, bringing him in close and wrapping him into a hug. "Truly. Shall we make up for lost time, then?"

"It's the middle of the day…?" Dorian says, turning to look up at Cullen with a cocked eyebrow.

Cullen scoffs. "You say this as though we've never taken afternoon naps before."

A smile spreads slow across Dorian's lips, and he squeezes his arms where they rest around Cullen's waist. "Mmm, I do like naps…"

Cullen unfolds his arms and takes Dorian's hand again, and leads him down the hall—past the jacket and the suitcase—towards the bedroom.

"You've made the bed," he states with no small amount of surprise in his tone, once they're through the door.

"I'm not a complete heathen, I'll politely remind you."

Cullen looks over his shoulder at Dorian with a lopsided grin. "Oh? You've never made it before…"

Dorian huffs, feigning offense. "Well, see if I ever bother again, now."

Cullen laughs and holds his hands up as if to concede the point, and Dorian smiles—because he finds he can't seem to _not_. They quickly strip down to their underwear, with Cullen's clothes ending up neatly and effortlessly folded on the bench at the foot of the bed and Dorian's ending up in a heap at his feet.

Cullen pulls the covers down on the bed and crawls in, letting out a deep sigh as he lies back. "No hotel bed has ever felt as good as this," he mutters as Dorian settles in next to him.

"Certainly not; you've never shared a hotel bed with me."

Cullen hums in agreement and reaches for Dorian. "I missed this, the sharing a bed part. I hadn't realised how accustomed I was to it until we were apart, but…"

His voice trails off as Dorian curls into his side, their bodies slotting together as perfectly as they always have. Dorian hates the puzzle piece analogy, cliché as it is, but he's remiss to admit that it truly does work in this instance. Cullen pulls him in closer and presses a kiss to the side of his head, where the hair is shorn close—Dorian accepts the invitation and wraps a leg over Cullen's, his arm across Cullen's stomach. He turns his face in and kisses Cullen's chest, taking the opportunity to deeply breathe in his scent.

"Warm enough, now?" Cullen asks, his voice hushed and low.

"Getting there…"

Cullen hums. Dorian feels him shift his hips slightly, and even the brief, half-formed thought that the movement suggests is enough to send a wave of heat through Dorian's core. Cullen curls a finger under Dorian's chin and directs it upwards, and he leans forward to meet Dorian's lips with his own, kissing him soft and slow. Dorian shifts, moving up because he needs a better angle, to take more of Cullen's mouth, to kiss him deeper, and Cullen seems to agree because he pulls Dorian up and over him. His hands slide down Dorian's sides, one coming to rest at his hip, and the other moving to hook under Dorian's knee, lifting his leg up and over until Dorian's straddling him fully.

Dorian laughs, more a pleased huff than anything else, and he pulls back from Cullen's lips just enough to speak. "I thought you wanted to nap…"

Cullen takes him by the hips again, his fingers dipping just below the waistband of his briefs. "I do," he says, smiling so that his lip hitches up just a little, right where the scar sits across it. "But I've missed you."

Dorian hums and is about to answer but Cullen shifts his hips once more, up against his own, and Dorian can _feel_ him through the thin fabric of their underwear, too warm and hard to possibly ignore. He rolls his hips down to meet Cullen's, and they both take sharp inhales at the pressing contact.

Cullen's fingers move further past the waistband of Dorian's briefs, trying to work the fabric down, but Dorian needs more of the upper hand, so he grinds with a twist into Cullen and lets out a quiet moan. Cullen's hands still, his fingers grip tight, and his eyes go a little wide, and Dorian can't help his smug smile.

That's as much teasing as Dorian's going to be able to manage, he figures, because Cullen recollects himself and sets about removing Dorian's briefs again. And Dorian's just as eager to be rid of them, so he lifts up and pulls them away, while Cullen takes care of his own at the same time.

Dorian settles over Cullen's thighs again, feeling the coarse prickle of hair against the thin skin between his own legs. He leans down to kiss Cullen, slipping a hand behind his neck, his fingers toying with the small curls at the nape. Their tongues meet and wrap together, slow and soft and it's hot—but not nearly as hot as the heat that radiates from Cullen's cock, swollen and _so close_ to his own.

So close, that all it takes is a slight shift of Dorian's hips for their dicks to touch, side-by-side, and Cullen groans low and rough into Dorian's mouth. His lips go slack as he lets out a few panting breaths, while Dorian chuckles and moves his lips to Cullen's jaw.

Cullen bucks so that they stroke against each other, and Dorian has to brace with one hand to avoid being pushed too far up the bed. He's about to reach between them but Cullen beats him to it, wrapping his heated, calloused hand around both their cocks, one on top of the other. Dorian moans, his mouth close to Cullen's ear and the hot rush of air sets off a shiver through Cullen that Dorian can feel as much as see.

Cullen's grip is tight and… _perfect_ , his strokes slow. His free hand digs into Dorian's flank, half-moon pricks into the supple muscle of his arse, and he pulls Dorian's hips closer. They fall into a natural, easy rhythm, rocking into each other, matching the pace Cullen's set with his hand. Then he takes his thumb and passes it over the heads of their dicks and they both softly whimper in unison, so sweet and casually obscene.

Cullen lets out a sharp huff, raising his head from the pillow to look down his torso, and he moans, biting his lip. "Yeah," he mutters, "so good, love."

Dorian chuckles, grinning lazily at the praise. He snaps his hips forward, increasing the friction between them. "Maybe next time you'll think twice," he pauses, a groan taking over him, "before leaving me alone so long."

"Mmm." Cullen hums, lifting his ass off the bed to meet Dorian's hips. "Maybe next time I'll think to bring you with." He exhales and it sounds like a growl more than a breath. "Keep you in the hotel, waiting for me, ready for me…"

Dorian's eyes slip closed as the words wash over him, and he fucks a little harder, a little more desperately, into Cullen's grip. Talk like that is rare for Cullen, and Dorian doesn't know whether he saves it up on purpose, to spring it on him without pretence—all he knows is it never fails, ramping up his arousal past points he even knew possible.

"Uh, Maker…" he grits out through clenched teeth. He leans further down over Cullen, putting his whole body into his thrusts, chasing the release he's getting more and more desperate for.

Cullen turns his face into Dorian's neck, pressing an open kiss to his heated skin, edged by teeth and softened by tongue. He's planted his feet on the mattress to give him more leverage, and Dorian thinks if he doesn't come soon he might rightly d—

His orgasm hits him hard—sudden and intense—and he can barely move through it, his body rigid and a long groan escaping his mouth, muffled into the pillow under Cullen's head.

Cullen groans too, letting go of Dorian and pumping his own cock faster. He comes with a grunt and Dorian can feel the wet heat of his spend against his lower stomach. He huffs out a laugh into the side of Cullen's head, kissing through his curls, because he feels so sated and as though all the doom and gloom of his loneliness of the past week just evaporated into a distant memory in one moment. Cullen laughs a little too, and coupled with the way his hand strokes up and down his back, Dorian knows he must feel the same.

Dorian reaches to take a few tissues from the box on the bedside table, every one of his muscles feeling heavy and overused. He sits back on his knees over Cullen and wipes them each down, and Cullen hums softly, just barely audible, as Dorian attends to him. Dorian tosses the tissue towards the wastebasket and shifts to lie next to Cullen, draping half his body over his torso, one leg draped over his.

Cullen sighs and Dorian feels the soft puff of air against the top of his head and it makes him smile, for whatever reason. He tries to settle in closer even though their bodies are already flush, and Cullen rubs his free hand over Dorian's arm in soft, sweeping passes.

Before long his hand slows and his breath evens out, and Dorian knows he's asleep. He turns his head to press a kiss to Cullen's chest.

"Welcome home," he mouths, silent against Cullen's skin.

**Author's Note:**

> oh look a [tumblr](http://avrilxiv.tumblr.com) link~


End file.
